Expectations and Other Folly
by Jack'N'SallyGal
Summary: "Our son is a Malfoy. There are expectations that he must fulfill. You know that. You've known it all along." Narcissa Malfoy realizes the truth about war and family during a visit to the nursery. First war Lucissa


Response to the Marauder Era Writing prompt on tumblr_: __How the war is impacting your OTP's relationship_  
Rated:_ K  
_Pairing_: Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Malfoy_

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy heard her son's fretful cries and sat up in bed, instantly coming awake. Her mind was cloudy with sleep, but it cleared quickly as a small sense of urgency gripped her.

In the darkness, the duvet whispered as she slid out of bed and into her slippers.

"Cissa," her husband muttered into his pillow, "let the Healer tend to him."

Narcissa located her robe hanging near the door. She slid the cool pink silk over her shoulders, fastened the tie, and started out of the room without a word to Lucius.

Draco's cries grew louder as she neared the nursery. He had a summer cold, poor thing, and was restless, fussing whenever she put him down to sleep. He had managed just over two hours, and here he was, crying once more.

Narcissa spotted the glow of another wand further down the hall and hurried her pace to catch the woman before she made it to the nursery.

"Your services won't be necessary tonight, Healer Strout."

The woman approaching her son's bedroom appeared startled to find the mistress of Malfoy manor up and walking around in her night clothes. Narcissa smoothed a hand over her tangle of hair, smiling thinly in response.

"I'll send an elf to fetch you if I should need anything."

"If you're sure..."

Narcissa tilted her chin, pinning the woman with a look communicated that it would be in her interest to leave her presence without being asked a second time. The Healer wisely nodded and backed away, allowing Narcissa to slip into the nursery where Draco's cries were reaching a heartbreaking crescendo.

Once she shut the door behind her, Narcissa hurried over to the ornate bassinet, swooping her son up and into her arms.

"What a retched cold. Perfectly dreadful, I know," she soothed.

She swayed on the spot for several moments, quieting him some as she went to the cabinet where his medicine was kept. As she was cradling her son close, whispering words of nonsense to comfort him while carefully dabbing two drops of liquid onto her finger and swiping it into his mouth, she noticed an elaborate floral arrangement.

She didn't remember signing for it, or ordering the elves to bring it upstairs. Things had been busier since Draco's arrival, but surely she wouldn't have missed such a lovely arrangement.

"There, sweet, that's a boy," she murmured, dropping a loving kiss on his forehead as she lifted the card nestled among the foliage to read the elegant script.

When Lucius arrived in the nursery sometime later, Narcissa was seated in the rocking chair with Draco in her arms. There was a stain near the neck of her robe from where he had spit up after his feeding, and Lucius felt a faint tickle of amusement over the ruin of such an expensive, and impractical garment.

Lucius shut the door to the nursery, approaching the scene quietly to avoid disturbing his infant son.

"Come to bed, Cissa. He's fine now."

Narcissa's gaze remained on her son as she rocked steadily in the chair, soothing his nighttime coughs and sniffles. He knew something was wrong then and sighed as he seated himself on the window seat overlooking the grounds.

"Is there something on your mind?"

She looked up, and he caught the unwavering steel in her gaze. It was a look he was very familiar with, something he assumed the Black women were born with to let a man know when he should start running.

"I noticed a new get-well arrangement somehow made it's way into the nursery."

Lucius said nothing, and for a moment his wife appeared angrier than he had ever seen her. It wasn't an expression he was used to. Her determination was familiar, but naked anger? She was much too good at concealing her emotions for that.

"They were from your Lord-"

"_My_ Lord? As if I'm the only one-"

But Narcissa continued as if he hadn't spoken.

"He was kind enough to wish Draco a quick recovery from his cold, and mentioned how eager he is to watch him grow up. That he awaited the day when our son would join his ranks."

"That surprises you?"

"I won't have our infant son _used_ to gain favor with the Dark Lord, Lucius," she remarked quietly, refusing to answer him directly.

"He isn't being _used_. Our son is a Malfoy. There are expectations that he must fulfill. You know that. You've known it all along."

Narcissa continued rocking. Draco, with his small tufts of blond hair, squirmed in his sleep, setting in once more as the voices in the room quieted.

"I'm throwing them out in the morning," she remarked softly. Devoid of anger, her voice was flat, nearly emotionless, and he got the feeling she was desperate for him to leave the room.

"I'll get one of the elves to do it," he returned, starting for the door.

* * *

It was another hour before she came back to bed. He heard the ruffle of the sheet as she slid beneath it. When he rolled over, she was on her side, giving him her back as she pretended to rest.

Lucius reached out, tentatively, fingers ghosting over her bare shoulder.

He watched her sigh, exhaling a silent gust of air as she rolled over to face him. He saw the remnants of tears gathered on her lashes, and the red under her eyes that she hadn't bothered to hide.

In the darkness he opened his arms and she moved into them, pressing her face against his neck as he stroked her back, lost for the proper words to assuage her sorrow and fear.


End file.
